Double Time
by alicat54
Summary: "I knew I was the evil twin!"Fred died and met, himself? Or you know, what he'd look like if he got dropped in a vat of bleach. What's this about coming back to life and saving the world? Again that is..Soul Society wasntthis bad Time Travel HP xover
1. Chapter 1

"And who exactly are you suppose to be?"

The pale white figure nonchalantly picket at its teeth with the end of a comically large sword, completely ignoring the red headed boy's question in favor of staring blankly out over the landscape surrounding them.

What once might have been a large shining city now looked overgrown with a wide variety of fauna. Skyscrapers crumbled under towering oaks while empty windows played host to a number of tiny exotic twining flowers. A breeze gusted past, causing the leaves to whisper quietly. The two stood alone on the roof of one of the few still standing structures, allowing for a rather nice view of the strange place's entirety.

"I know I must have died," the boy continued, trying yet again to attract the attention of the only other being there, "so are you the grim reaper, or have I just gone bonkers?"

The figure choked, and intuitively the red haired boy knew it to be covering a laugh.

"You are dead," in a singly fluid movement the pale man ghosted from his reclining slump to his feet and turned to face the boy, "but I'm afraid I'm not a grim reaper." He stuffed a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter over some private joke.

The boy, not liking the fact that someone apparently was having a laugh at his own expense, frowned and crossed his long arms across his chest.

"So who are you then?" The white man cleared his throat of any remaining laughter, straining to keep a straight face.

"Well, I guess you could say I' you, or you're me, or we're both only a half of a soul, well the dead half anyway…" he trailed off uncertainty narrowing his yellow black eyes.

Fred rolled his eyes, "You might want to try and be a bit clearer on that."

The white man chuckled. "Well, it's an odd experience talking to myself, though given the circumstances I really shouldn't be so bothered by it, seeing as I've done it since well before you were born, but you're more me than he ever was, so-" he shrugged, as if that explained it all.

Fred raised his eyebrow. "Are you sure you're all right mate?"

The man waved him off, "Never better." He crossed one arm behind his back and stroked his pale chin with the other. "Where to begin, there's lot I should probably tell you before we go. Hmm…" he looked thoughtful. Finally he burst out, "Do you believe in reincarnation?"

Fred looked taken aback. "What?"

"You know, dying an then coming back to another life?"

The boy shrugged. "I guess…"

The man smiled, showing teeth blacker than night. "Good, then I wont have to spend time explaining that! Well, to put it into the simplest terms, you were me, and I am what happens when a soul is split in two. The other half of us is-"

"George!"

The man looked at him sharply and smiled. "Exactly. Haven't you ever wondered how we were able to finish each other's words like that? It helps when you know exactly what the other will say."

"What does this have to do with anything?" Fred asked brow furrowed, "I'm dead, George isn't. Does this happen every time someone dies?"

The figure grimaced, "Not really. See, when only half a soul kicks the bucket, it throws the cosmic scales, or something, out of whack. They really don't like it when that happens."

Fred looked confused, "They?"

"Oh you know," The white specter waved its arms around vaguely, "Them. The Powers that Be, God, The Flying Spaghetti Monster, whatever you call them. See me and the King-"

"Who?"

He waved his hand about in the air again, "Uh, George."

"Oh, why'd you call him king?"

"I was getting to that, if you'd stop interrupting!" the figure snapped.

Fred lifted his hands in a sign of peace, "Sorry, sorry, continue!"

"As I was saying, me and the King, well we didn't really get along at first, with him being all the positive stuff and me all the negative-"

"I knew I was the evil twin!" Fred burst out suddenly, a look of utmost triumph on his face. The man grinned.

"Yes, you are as you say, the evil twin. Now shut up while I finish my story!" he cleared his throat again. "Now where was I? Well, King and me didn't get along, but circumstances beyond our control forced us to work together." The man huffed angrily, "And just when we finally got the whole partnership thing down, we went up and died! It was so unfair!" he descended into a raving silence.

Fred cleared his throat. "So, what does this have to do with me again?"

"I'll tell you in a minute, if you just shut up!" Fred clamped his jaws shut, dramatically locking the corner with a key before tossing it away. The white man huffed. "That's better! So, cosmic whatever is out of balance, and They don't like it. Something about soul pieces remaining together or something so-"

"Wait," Fred cut him off sharply, "I'm not going to let you kill my brother! We might be a matched set, but I'm the dead one not him!"

The pale man frowned and whacked the boy across the head with his fist. "Shut up and let me finish my story!" Fred crumpled to the floor dramatically clutching his head painfully.

"They were the ones who wanted to kill us again as a pair, but me and King have enough carmatic credit to subdue a god, so I managed to pull a few strings and get a new deal for us!" He grinned widely, expecting raucous praise. Fred's eyebrow twitched.

"So, I'd be alive again?"

The man shrugged. "Something like that. It's a bit more complicated, especially since They have no linear concept of time nor space, but that is the general idea." He shrugged again. "Beats floating around forever in limbo. That was choice two, and trust me, it sucks!"

"Ok, so what's the catch to all this?" Fred said frowning slightly. "I mean, I doubt that I'll just be brought back to live with no catch. So what is it?"

The man smiled happily. "I knew I was the smart one! Take that King!" Moment of fanatical exultation passed, the man coughed. "Sorry, well, you're right, because I'm talking to you right now we're kind of getting mixed up together and the same thing will probably happen to anyone else we know, er, knew, who was reincarnated too, so there is sort of a catch-" far away in the distance what sounded like an egg timer dinged, echoing hollowly over the desolate landscape, "-but we just ran out of time! Thanks for playing the game of life, we hope to see you next time!"

"What are you-" but before Fred could finish his confused exclamation the white man bodily kicked him over the edge of the building, and the world faded to darkness.

***)** **8(**;p*

Blearily, Fred opened his eyes. Finding that the world was much to bright to sort through, he quickly shut them again with a tired sigh. What a crazy dream… Suddenly he leapt from his bed, screeching.

"I'M ALIVE!" Immediately a pillow came sailing through the air to collide with his head.

"Fred, it's morning, shut up," came the slightly muffled disgruntled voice from his neighboring bed.

"George! I'm alive! Look!" the red headed boy stood arms outstretched, waiting for his twin to share his enthused exultation.

"Trust me, I can solve that problem in a minute," a bleary eye glared at him from under a mountain of woolen blankets, "We have to get up early enough as it is to pick up Harry for the World Cup tomorrow. It's three in the morning, go back to sleep."

Huffing at his brother's lack of enthusiasm Fred leapt on top of his twin's blanket covered form. "George listen, we were fighting Voldemort in the great hall, and I got hit with a curse and died, then I was in this abandoned city with this weird bleached guy who says I'm his reincarnation. He pushed me off a building and then it was like I was watching this crazy action movie! There were these monsters with creepy white masks, and all these super powered people with swords, and a war, and it was amazing!"

"Fred get off me!" George growled, writhing as his brother pinned his limbs.

"No listen to me, really this is important!" his twin burrowed deeper under the covers, submerging his orange topped head. Fred sighed deeply and rolled off the bed to the floor in disgust. "I swear, you're even worse to wake up than Grimmjow!"

His twin groaned sleepily, "Don't compare me to," he yawned tiredly, "to that hollow."

Fred's yellowing eyes widened. There was a beat.

"Whoa!" in a tidal wave of blankets George threw himself from the bed, eyes now stretched to widely they looked as if they might pop from his face. He tumbled to the floor with a loud crash, taking the sheets with him.

"Fred, what- how- What the hell happened? Why do I- Why am I sharing in you're delusional dream?"

The two stared at each other, one sitting propped up against the foot of the bed, the other tangled on the floor in blankets. Slowly identical grins spread across the twin's faces.

"We're back aren't we."

"Yes oh kingly brother mine, I do believe we are."

Elsewhere across the continent of Britain several people lay unsettled in their beds. One tossed around in a sweat, even as veins of ice slowly crept over the faded walls of his bedroom. Another awoke with the most unnatural urge for a drink of sake, even though he had never in his life heard of such a thing. Farther away still one boy grimaced and rubbed his sore arms, imagining them as fierce armored giants.

In a mansion full of plants, a boy with blonde hair opened his eyes blearily and examined the ceiling. He blinked and grinned widely. "Oh Kurosaki-kun, what have you gotten us into this time?" he chuckled amusedly and pulled his night hat low over his eyes. Maybe he should get one with green striped on it…

***)*(*()&(^*(^

it just came to be while reading one of the twin's scenes…

review to tell me how you like it, please


	2. When Explanations are Not Had

)()((::

Harry Potter was not having a good day, which was rather surprising as this was the day when he would be able to escape his relative's house for the rest of the year.

It started when he woke up yesterday with a fever, or at least what felt to him like a fever. Every inch of his body burned with an unnatural heat, his head felt disoriented, and buckets of sweat pored off his body. Having never been ill before, but having heard of the symptoms, Harry attempted to find a remedy for his condition.

He snuck out of his smallest bedroom and down the hall to the lavatory. Quietly as he could the fourteen year old opened the medicine cabinet and rattled through the shelves of pills till he came to the correct bottle. Shaking out the correct dosage he tossed the pills in his mouth and filled up a glass of water to wash them down. Swallowing, he paused; them gulped down another six glasses.

Feeling marginally better, the boy stumbled back to his room and flopped bodily onto his bed after having thrown off all his cloths, save for his boxers. A moment later he heaved himself up again to pull open the window. A dry breeze swept across his face, chapping his pale lips. Harry frowned, wishing whole-heartedly for it to snow, or at least cool down past the hundred-degree mark.

The clock by his bed read four thirty. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep in his condition, Harry slunk to his faded closet and pulled out the first pair of cloths that met his fingers. Sidling to his desk, he searched through one of the drawers till his hand met a pair of scissors. Deftly the boy cut off the sleeves of Dudley's old tee shirt and the pants up to the knees. Fumbling again he procured a spool of thread and a slightly bent needle.

Long forgotten lessons seeped into his inexperienced fingers, producing a hem of neat black lines. The only thought that pervaded his otherwise muddled mind as he stitched was:

'When did I care what I dressed like?'

))()( )

Fred glanced at his brother across the breakfast table curiously, his brow drawn together in thought as he chewed his oatmeal. Carefully extracting the spoon from his mouth he looked at his twin.

"So do you suppose there's more?"

George, who had foregone the oatmeal in place of some toast, shrugged. "Must be, mustn't there."

"So who-"

"-do we think-"

"-it is?"

The duo pondered this mystery silently over their cold breakfast; completely ignoring the concerns looks being shot at them by their siblings. Finally Ron, the unofficial spokesperson for himself and Ginny (Bill was out with their father and Charley still asleep from jetlag) cleared his throat.

"Uh, you two ok?" They looked at him and smiled twin grins, which put any sane person on edge.

"Never better-"

"-Ickle Ronnykins! We're just-"

"-discussing business. It's nothing to-"

"-worry about!"

Ron grimaced. "I mean well, we heard some explosions from your room, well more than usual anyway, and with dad and Bill at the ministry all day for the floo-"

"We just want to know if the house is going to blow up so we can get out of the way before mum finds you." Ginny cut him off exasperatedly. The twins shared a look.

"Well, the house shouldn't-"

"-burn down, though-"

"-we should probably clean up our room before-"

"-Hermione shows up and-"

"-we start rearranging furniture-"

"-to accommodate all friends-"

"-and family."

"Ta!"

In practiced motion the duo stood together and lightly stepped up the stairs to their room.

Fred opened the door a fraction of an inch, sarcastically bowing his brother inside.

The door clicked ominously shut behind them.

George surveyed their abode, taking in the various burn marks and scattered belongings, mouth twisted in something between a grin and a grimace. "We probably should actually clean all this up."

Fred rubbed at a particularly nasty smothering burn in the carped with his toe. "It doesn't look too bad, maybe they won't notice?"

George's amused gaze turned to his twin. "Really? I thought you were suppose to be the smart twin."

Fred shrugged, bending to replace the tangle of blankets to the bed from the revelation of the night before. "Yes, well, I'm also the evil one."

"Hey, I thought it was my turn to be the evil twin! You got to be it last time!" George wined. Fred threw a pillow playfully at his head.

"Keep up like that and I'll cero you, like I did the carpet!" They laughed; George tossed the pillow back to the bed.

"Just keep your destructive urged to yourself once we get out joke shop, I don't want to have to pay for a blown up wall or something." Fred pouted.

"Hey not all of these are mine," he kicked a burnt spot on the ground, "just be glad no one picked it up as under aged magic." George shrugged, busy trying to pile a stack of toppled magazines neatly in the corner. Fred rolled his eyes. "Anyway, lets try and bet our money with someone other than Ludo this time at the cup, so we'll still have our money later."

"What are you talking about?" George looked up, "Why would a famous quidditch player be gambling with us?" he laughed.

Fred frowned, "Ludo's going to be at the World Cup, remember? He lost our bet, but wouldn't give us our gold and…. He trailed off at the blank look on his brother's face. "You don't remember?"

"What are you talking about?" he repeated, "This isn't another attempt to confuse the hell out of me with riddles again is it? I had enough of that last time with the king and horse bit." He chuckled lightly. Fred joined in, but couldn't suppress the creeping thoughts clouding his mind.

"Anyway, when are we getting Harry from the Dursleys?" Fred turned back to his work, hoping the minor creasing of his brow would go unnoticed.

"Just as soon as Dad gets back from connecting his house to the floo." George pulled a battered liking pamphlet for Zonko's from under a pile of socks. His face brightened, "Hey, I've been looking for that!"

Pausing, Fred calculated a sum on his fingers. "So that should give us ample time to clean up."

With a sigh the twins began disguising the many recent burns across their floor as otherwise unidentifiable stains.

)()(: ;;0

Harry sat in the living room of his relative's house, feeling more irritated than he could ever remember being.

For one, his new outfit's ability to cut down on the heat accumulated by his body did not seem to out way the glares it attracted from his relatives. Petunia alternated between ignoring this punk's intrusion upon her spotless home, and hissing threatening cursed under her breath. Dudley, remembering his last encounter with wizards looked terrified, and generally tried to hide whenever Harry came near. Vernon, near the appointed time, attempted to even speak with the stoic sweating boy.

"How exactly are they getting here boy?"

Harry's icy emerald eyes glared at him, causing the large man to stumble back.

"I don't know," he pronounced clearly, before turning away mind obviously on other things.

When the Weasley clan came tumbling out of the fireplace, Harry had to restrain a small smirk at the expression on his relative's face. The smirk turned thin at the corners when his eyes fell upon the grinning twins. Something seemed …off about them.

"Harry, good to see ya! Do you have your things?" Mr. Weasley's boisterous greeting cut through his thoughts. He shook his head.

"My trunk's upstairs."

Ron leapt to his side. "I'll help you get it down!" Together the boys scrambled up the stairs, but not before Harry threw a warning glare at George's suspiciously bulging pockets.

Said twin met his eyes and froze, hands immediately clamped to his sides. Harry managed to see him share a look with his brother, before his gaze was blocked on his way up the stairs.

The rest of the evening passed with little to no excitement as Harry and the Weasley children flooed to the burrow from the Dursleys.

As Harry lay in bed staring at the ceiling, stomach protesting to the fact that he ate in one sitting more food than he had even seen for three months, he couldn't help but smile. Tomorrow he would be going to the world cup with his best friends, his first time ever going to a sports game! And if that wasn't enough to over fill his bubble of joy the Weasleys had air conditioning.

Sighing contentedly the boy fell asleep; completely unaware that one room over he was the topic of a very heated discussion.

**)*(

Review reply

To Oreramar, to answer your questions

Wow, I think this is the longest review I've ever gotten! no it's not just a bleach add in, i rather dislike those. i do admit there will be some ooc ness. ;P unaviodable as my writing skills and the characters dialogue become one… because unfortunately I don't think I'm up to writing thirty chapter fight scenes like Kubo-san.

The character's appearances wont change…much… ;) (in case you haven't noticed I like smili faces)

Oh, and I probably wont just put up the old bleach main cast, I might throw in some really vague random character to keep you on your toes. *) that would really entertain me… (insert evil laugh)

As for the rest, you'll just have to keep reading. Its thanks to readers like you I know if my writing's horrible or not. so please tell me if I have weird sounding/spelling English

As for harry's outfit, come on, who cant see shiro-chan being ocd enough to fix his own outfits? It's not like matsumoto's gonna do it for him.


	3. Chapter 3

)(( )

Severus Snape gazed dolefully into the bottom of his glass, wishing that it would magically refill itself and save him a trip to the shelf on the other side of the room.

He paused briefly to consider this thought within the context of his existence.

Hiccupping slightly he pulled out his wand, causing the bottle to soar across the room and to his hand with a resounding smack. He looked at his glass again, blinking slowly. He carefully placed the cup on the faded end table beside his couch and briefly consulted the bottle personally.

He sighed.

Scattered pictured littered the floor around him, each depicting a red headed girl accompanied by a rather bedraggled looking boy with a hooked nose. Though Snape had always held special meaning in the pantomimes of the past, recent revelations caused her face to gain an entirely new depth of character to him.

His sudden need to go through these old albums opened a range of fresh wounds to lie among the old scars. It hurt now more than it ever had in the past, as unrequented centueries old pains rushed to the forefront of his mind to mingle with the smoldering embers of a school time hate.

"Damn him," he hissed darkly, the liquor in his fist shattering in a shower of green.

He glanced impassively at his hand, noticing tiny droplets of blood start to well up among jagged shards of glass. Calmly he rose and swept to the bathroom in search of a first aid kit.

…..OmO…..

Events had progressed in much the same way as Fred remembered.

The only real difference was that his twin kept shooting him odd glances whenever he said something in such a way as to divulge his forewarned knowledge.

It made him feel sad, knowing that even if he tried to share this critical piece of information with his brother, there was a high chance he wouldn't be believed.

It was the first time in his memory that anything had ever been kept a secret between the two… well there was that one time with Katie Bell after the Yule Ball, but even that secret hadn't outlived the night.

It made him uneasy, to keep so much from his other half , but he couldn't think of a way to broach the subject without seeming completely mad, even in light of their recent identity mishaps.

So Fred decided that the best course of action was to keep his mouth shut, It was a brilliant idea and even nearly worked too.

He kept silent through searching for the portkey on the hill, he kept silent as Percy kissed up to Mr. Crouch, he even kept silent as Ludo Bagman tried to coerce them into gambling, doing nothing but calmly cast a look at George to communicate his displeasure at the interaction (saving all their money in the process).

However, no matter how he tried to stop himself, he couldn't keep silent after the game's celebrations when everyone in the tent got ready to sleep.

He remembered the screaming muggles and the Deatheater raid.

It wasn't like a bet, it was real people with real lives at stake. At heart Fred knew he wasn't a hero: he had never been a hero.

Ichigo had been the bleeding heart, not him. That damn king had never cared about his own well being, and in the end it had gotten them all killed. Granted going out in a blaze of battle and glory defeating Aizen was a great way to go, you know up until their reitsu had burnt out and they died.

Anyway, Ichigo was the hero. He was not.

Fred shook his head violently. No, he was not a hero, but George was not Ichigo.

George was the one who had always been there for him since they were born; the one who laughed when they turned Ron's teddy into a spider, the one who planned the best pranks to pull at school-

His twin snored loudly beside him, growling something about not wanting any more chocolate coins thank you. Fred smiled to himself.

No, George wasn't Ichigo. He blinked as a thought occurred to him.

'I guess that means I'm not _him_ either, even if I once was…' With this thought his eyes unnoticeably darkened back to brown.

Sitting up Fred laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "George wake up, there's something I need to tell you!"

())()*)*)

thx for the reviews, I've had college stuff…. (sob)

On that note, I seriously need someone to adopt this story, I won't be able to finish it.

Major plot points, I'll spill when someone adopts it in a final goodby chapter.


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